Love and Memories
by Lord Death's Paramour
Summary: In the midst of a war, 7th Year Hogwarts student Lily Evans explores life, friendship, and her feelings for a certain mischevious Head Boy. Is all as it seems? Who knows, but you can be sure it'll be a heck of a ride.
1. Oh, Christmas Tree

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the _Harry Potter_ series. Alas, it is the property of J.K. Rowling. It's use here is purely for entertainment value. Basically, I admit that my enslavement of Remus is all in my head, and I'm not getting paid for this.

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"PEEVES! YOU GET DOWN HERE THIS INSTANT!" Minerva McGonagall screeched loudly.

Seventh Year Lily Evans sighed and rolled her eyes. Peeves had really done it this time. Stealing McGonagall's tartan hat was definitely NOT something that would be taken lightly. At least not by the professor in question.

She did not shrink from decorating the magnificently large pine in front of her as the ebony-haired lady continued to ladle out threats to the rude little man (who was apparently not within hearing distance as she clearly heard the Bloody Baron mentioned a time or two).

When no reply was audible, McGonagall wheeled on the spot and faced Lily.

"Miss Evans, you did not happen to see where that horrible, desolate excuse for a being made off to, did you?"

Lily shook her head in feigned sadness, trying her hardest to suppress the smile that threatened to light up her emerald green eyes any moment now.

"I'm sorry, Professor. I was so caught up in the decorating . . ."

McGonagall sighed.

"Very well, dear, but _please _let me know if you see him. Oh, and if you do have that horrible misfortune, please inform him that the Bloody Baron _will _hear about this."

"Of course, Professor."

After she was sure the strictest professor in Hogwarts had departed for the headmaster's office, Lily no longer tried to contain the smile. While she _did _pity McGonagall the loss of her beloved hat, it _was_ a rather humorous event.

She quickly glanced around the tree as she heard a distinctly masculine chuckle. There, bedecking the back of the tree with several live owls was none other than the Head Boy himself.

"What are you doing here, James?" Lily inquired of the raven-haired boy now in front of her.

James Potter jumped slightly, though whether from shock at her presence or surprise at the use of his first name she had no idea.

"Why Lily darling, I'm positively hurt. Here I am trying to spread the holiday cheer to those not as naturally jolly as me and you start acting as though I'm up to no good." He grinned good naturedly.

Lily rolled her eyes and ignored the endearment.

"I didn't mean why are you "spreading the holiday cheer" as you call it, you prat! I meant what are you doing _here_, as in at Hogwarts? I assumed you would be spending Christmas at home as always."

He shook his head and added another owl to the tree.

"No, not this year, I'm afraid. Moony, Padfoot, and I decided our services would be more useful here this festive holiday season." He grinned again. "What about you, my dear Evans? What circumstance finds you here this year?"

Lily's smile drooped, her formerly jovial mood now nonexistent. Tears threatened to spew from her eyes. If anyone else had asked her this she probably would have thought up some bogus excuse. But this was Potter. And while he had previously held the title of "World's Biggest Prat," something had changed when he arrived for Seventh Year. He had matured. Oh, he still had a bit of that old arrogance that could drive her positively MAD, but he had also offered her a friendly shoulder any time she needed one. She had found herself actually talking to him as she would a friend and had begun to consider him one. What could it hurt to tell him? She knew he wouldn't tell anyone. _Here goes_, she thought.

"My sister's getting married. I wasn't invited." She smiled sadly and looked at the floor. "In fact, she made it unquestionably clear that I am to stay far away from her and her fiancé. She's been waiting her whole life for this day and under no circumstances is a "freak" like me going to mess it all up for her." She bit her lip mournfully as she finally realized how much it had truly hurt her to hear her sister, who had used to be her _best friend, _utter such painful words. A tear left a salty trail down her cheek as she finally looked up and met Potter's gaze.

His hazel eyes were widened in disbelief.

"She actually called you a freak? _She _called _you _a _freak_?"

Lily nodded, another tear joining the first.

He scowled and clenched his fist, suddenly feeling fiercely protective of the auburn-haired Head Girl he had burned a torch for since Third Year. But this quickly lessened to concern as he saw her beautiful green eyes, their gaze resting unseeing on his trainers, filled with unshed tears. He stepped closer to her and did the first thing he could think of. He wrapped his arms around her.

Lily's initial reaction was to stiffen, but she quickly relaxed as she realized that he was only trying to offer her comfort in the only way he knew how at the moment. She closed her eyes and laid her head on his shoulder as she felt him rest his chin on her head.

"POTTY AND DAISY HEAD SITTING IN A TREE! K-I-S-S-I-N-G!"

Lily and James looked up from their embrace to see Peeves dancing around overhead and grinning as he did only when tormenting students. He usually left James alone because of his Marauder connections, but he obviously thought this an opportunity too good to miss.

Lily quickly pushed away from James and drew her hand across her eyes. When she re-directed her glance at Peeves overhead, there was a fierce gleam in those emerald orbs.

"Peeves," she said calmly to the portly little man, "you know that I hate that nickname. I would appreciate it if you would not address me as so from now on."

Peeves chuckled.

"Oooh, ickle Daisy Head thinks she can give me orders, does she? Well, I'll show her." He then proceeded to blow a very rude raspberry in Lily's direction.

"Very well, Peeves. Have it your way. I was just on my way to visit the Bloody Baron anyway. McGonagall, I believe, is also planning on paying him a visit if her hat is not returned in the next hour. You know he always _adores _hearing about you, Peeves." Lily smiled mischievously for effect.

This arrangement apparently did not suit Peeves very well as he blew another loud, wet raspberry at her and flew off in the opposite direction of the Slytherin common room.

"Very impressive, my dear. You _must _share you technique." James smiled kindly down at her. When she didn't reply he inquired quietly, "Do you want to talk about it? I know a place we can go where we won't be disturbed."

She quickly looked up at him questionably, having been privy to thee year's worth of his suggestive offers before now. Seeing the sincereity in his hazel eyes, her shoulders sagged and she answered, "No, thank you, James. I'm okay now. It's not as if it was something of a surprise, anyway."

He sighed and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"You know you can talk to me anytime, right Lily?" The smile he gave her was all kindness and earnestness.

She returned his smile slowly. He has such a nice smile, she noticed. Wait, what? Snap out of it, Evans!

She shook her head as if to clear it and met his gaze.

"Yes, I know. Thank you again." Her smile grew bigger. It lit up her face and made her eyes sparkle.

His did, too. "Anytime, Lily, anytime."

They stood there, just smiling at each other as the minutes passed. She noticed that he had moved closer; they were mere centimeters apart. In that last moment, Lily was sure he was going to kiss her. What scared her was that she wasn't sure she'd mind if he did.

But that moment passed, and he reluctantly turned away and looked away at the Christmas tree, one of the twelve that lit up the Great Hall each year, still to the left of them.

"I'd better get going," he said quietly, not seeing her rather dumbfounded expression. "I promised Flitwick I'd help him with something. See you later."

And with that, he calmly strode away down the corridor.

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**Author's Note: **Chapter one is pretty much just the introduction to the story; there's not much action. Chapter two has already been written (yay!), and will be posted after a quick clean up. I hope you enjoyed what little there was to sample (two will be much longer), and _please _review! Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated! Come on, hit the pretty button. You know you want to...


	2. Temper, Temper

**Author's Note:** I am so sorry about the long delay in posting! I've had this edited for days now and meant to have it up right after the first one, but all I've been able to do is work and sleep for the past week. (Can I get some sympathy here?) Work will settle down after tomorrow, so expect weekly updates unless something huge comes up. A HUGE thank you to yunie7777 and lilynprongs for reviewing the first chapter. Thanks for your patience!

**Disclaimer:** Alas, I do not own the _Harry Potter _series or any characters you recognize. I do, however, force them to play here.

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She didn't know how long she'd stood there staring at James's retreating back in shock, but eventually she'd regained some composure and took a short walk to hopefully clear her head. Hastily, she made her way to the painting of Sylvester the Suave which served as the door to the Heads' Common Room and noted his slumber. Opening her mouth to wake him, she hesitated. Here came the problem. She wasn't sure how much time had passed but guessed James was probably back from helping Flitwick by now, and there was no way in Hades she was facing James Potter now; not before she'd had a chance to process what had just occurred. It certainly didn't help that the only way to her (thankfully roommate-free) room was through the Common Room she shared with the Head Boy.

_Oh, why did James have to be Head Boy? And whose stupid idea was it that Heads should share a Common Room? _she thought bitterly and sighed. She only had a handful of options. A) She could walk through the portrait and proceed through to her room with her head held high, James Potter and his almost-kiss be damned! But then she would risk facing him, and she didn't think she could do that now. Or B) She could find alternate sleeping arrangements and have him think her a coward. Which was worse?

She pondered her slim choices for a minute longer before coming to a decision. Was she a Gryffindor or not? If she ran away like a frightened squirrel, she gave Potter the satisfaction of knowing he'd affected her. Which was probably exactly what he wanted! Of course! The big-headed git was purposely trying to embarrass her! Embarrass _her_, Lily Evans - Head Girl and genius extraordinaire! Well, she'd show him! And she'd tell him just as soon as she saw him what she thought of him, too! There!

Satisfied with James's intent, Lily smiled. Being angry at Potter – now _this _was familiar territory! She quickly straightened herself in order to seem taller and more opposing than her mere 5'4 and said "Sylvester?" quietly in an attempt to wake the sleeping blond man. When this seemed to have no effect whatsoever, she called out "Sylvester!" a little more loudly this time, and was rewarded when the promiscuous portrait began to stir.

"Potter, if you woke me up for no good reason I'll beat the shite…" he stopped mid-sentence when he saw it was the green-eyed Head Girl who had awakened him and not her raven-haired dorm mate. He face instantly seemed to relax into a flirty grin and Lily steeled herself for what she knew was coming.

"Well, Lily beautiful, if I'd known it was your lovely self, your welcome would have been a little… warmer."

Lily inwardly winced and reminded herself that if she wanted to see her bed anytime in the near future, she needed to stay in Sylvester's good graces.

"It's quite alright, Sylvester. Now if you don't mind, I'm _very _tired and wish nothing more than to go to bed. The password is "Widgum."

"Well you know, love, there're quite a few empty beds in a portrait down the hall. Want to join me? We'll sleep, I promise…..eventually." He grinned suggestively and eyed her chest that her thick robes could never quite conceal.

Lily barely managed to keep from crying. It had to be almost eleven by now. She was tired. He anger at James was quickly dissipating and now with her encounter with Sylvester, and she was back to utter confusion. All she wanted was to sink into bed and let the Sandman claim her. Why couldn't the Fates just give her a break?

"As…nice…as the offer is, I'm really quite tired. _Please_ let me in."

"Er, no. Maybe later. How 'bout we discuss this later after a nice long bath, eh? Preferably together." His coal-black eyes were now raking up and down her body.

Lily sighed mournfully and buried her face in her hands.

"Oi, Sylvester! I thought we already had a discussion about how you are to treat the Head Girl!"

Lily's head snapped up so fast that, for a second, she feared she'd gotten whiplash. Knowing already to whom that deep and utterly masculine voice belonged, she turned slowly around and was not disappointed to see none other than the object of her previous anger glaring at the portrait with what was clearly a scowl.

"So what if we did? It's not as if she _minds _it, nor is it any of your business, Potter!" Sylvester's coal eyes glared right back into James's hazel ones with unmistakable defiance, and Lily recalled the (seemingly good-natured, but apparently not so) earlier disputes between the two.

James took an equally defiant step forward and replied angrily, "Judging by the fact that she looks like you just killed her dog _and_ that she's about to pass out from sleep deprivation, I'd say she _does _mind. And yes, it _is _my business. No one, _especially_ not a cheap painting of a sleaze like you is going to make passes at her while I'm around!" She could practically _feel _the disdain radiating off him in torrents.

Lily could only look up in pure shock. She'd never, _never _had anyone get so…so…_angry_ on her behalf. And although she didn't appreciate James attempting to fight her battles for her, she also realized that he truly meant what he was saying. The flutter this gave her in the pit of her stomach she chose to ignore.

Sylvester looked ready to throw daggers.

"Why don't you just bugger off Potter, and quit trying to be her 'Knight in Shining Armor.' 'Friend,' my arse! You think nobody notices how your eyes follow her every movement? You think _I _don't notice? I think you're just jealous because you know that she'll never give you the time of day. You don't even have the bits to try to get some action. I sure wouldn't mind getting some." His eyes again rested on her breasts.

"Potter, NO!"

Lily was shocked out of the trance-like state she'd been in watching James and Sylvester go at it by the voice of her Transfiguration professor who had apparently just arrived on the scene. Her eyes darted over from the guard of the Heads Rooms to James who she saw had his wand raised and pointed at the painting's frame. He slowly (and… reluctantly?) lowered his wand and turned to face Minerva McGonagall. Lily did likewise and noticed that the professor was accompanied by the Headmaster (and that she'd apparently recovered her hat). Dumbledore looked neither angry nor shocked at the predicament he'd just stumbled upon. In fact, his features were almost eerily calm. The same could not be said for McGonagall who was practically seething.

"Potter, explain yourself!" she demanded.

Lily could've sworn that his hazel eyes had glanced her way for a split second before he answered, but he was already speaking before she had a chance to register it.

"I was about to hex this portrait into smithereens, Professor," James said without of hint of sarcasm or humor in his voice as he gestured behind him at the now silent Sylvester.

"I could see that, Potter! What eludes me is the reasoning behind such an action. You _know _that it is forbidden to use magic on a portrait! And I should think that you would be especially reluctant to break such a rule on the guardian of your rooms. As Head Boy, you should be setting a better example than this." She had started an agitated pacing. Dumbledore, however, merely watched what passed while his face betrayed no emotion but tranquility.

"I should think my actions quite verified, Professor, considering the prompting I was given." His anger-darkened eyed were now directed at the floor below Dumbledore's feet, although this did not make him look ashamed as it should have. Instinctively, Lily knew that he was trying to calm his anger. She also couldn't help silently admiring his calm way of speaking in the midst of such anger. _She _would have been shouting to the heavens.

McGonagall stopped her pacing and followed his downward gaze.

"And such a prompt would be?"

Lily was about to open her mouth to explain when Dumbledore spoke instead.

"There is no need to explain, Miss Evans. I have been made aware of the situation on several occasions, including what has just occurred." All three of them looked at the elder wizard. "But what I must ask is why did you not come forward? Such behavior to students is strictly forbidden, and Mr. Sylvester would have been replaced long before it could escalate to such a level."

McGonagall looked from Dumbledore to Lily, her brow raised in a questioning fashion. Apparently _she _had not been made aware of the "situation."

Lily answered, "I thought that if I gave him no encouragement, he would eventually stop. At first, it was simply crude compliments. Then there were offers." She averted her eyes.

Dumbledore smiled contentedly as though his guess had been confirmed. He then looked to James.

"And you were aware of this, Mr. Potter?" The Headmaster looked as though he already knew the answer.

"Yes, sir. I also thought I could stop it on my own."

"Well, then! There you have it, Minerva. I believe the only wrong that can be accredited to these two is failure to report such an incident."

"But, Albus! What about Potter? He was about to-"

"Ah, Minerva, but surely you heard the prompt he was given? I see no reason to punish Mr. Potter, except perhaps to chide him about his temper." Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkled as he spoke.

"Yes, sir." James continued to stare at the floor.

"Well! I believe you two have been kept from your beds long enough. Come, Minerva. I have something I must discuss with you. Miss Evans, Mr. Potter, the portrait will be replaced upon the morrow. Goodnight."

McGonagall appeared as though she wished to protest; however, sensing the fruitlessness of such an action, she reluctantly followed the Headmaster toward his office while he happily discussed something pertaining to socks, or perhaps a lack of.

Lily stared at the wall until the Headmaster was out of earshot, hastily trying to determine what she should do next. She hardly knew how to act around the Head Boy after such an occurrence. He apparently had nothing to say either.

The minutes passed, and she felt her energy level diminishing. Finally, summoning her Gryffindor courage, she looked at James and whispered, "Thank you."

He jumped, startled, and looked at her in surprise.

"No problem," he said after a moment and swiftly walked through the now open portrait hole, leaving a somewhat confused and very tired Head Girl in his wake.

I hope you enjoyed! Please review! You know you're dying to tell me your thoughts. Come on, hit that pretty button!


	3. That One's Gotta Hurt

**A/N:** I apologize most profusely for the extreme delay in getting this chapter out. Life intervenes, as I'm sure everyone knows. Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed the previous two chapters. It made me want to keep going. I'm sorry that it's so short; it helps me get to the good stuff. And now, onward!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the _Harry Potter _series. It is the property of J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., etc. It's use here is for entertainment only; no profit is being made. This disclaimer applies to all future chapters of this story.

Lily awoke the next morning with a growing sense of unease. She never thought that _she_ of all people could get worked up over James Potter, but that's exactly what she was. He had not been in the communal common room that connected their bedchambers, so she'd had no chance to analyze the situation. She wasn't sure where they stood now, and that bothered her. Rising from bed, she gathered her shower supplies quickly, hoping to bathe and depart before James awoke. As quietly as she was capable of, she eased the door to her room open and tiptoed to the door to the loo she shared with the Head Boy. She had just enough time to seriously question the wisdom in two seventeen year-olds having their living quarters in such close proximity when a sharp pain to her forehead sent her to meet the floor

"Oh, Merlin! Evans, are you okay?"

She opened her eyes slowly, wincing at the dull throb this caused.

"Uugggh," she groaned.

"Merlin, Lily, I am so sorry. I had no idea you'd be coming in. Should I take you to Madam Pomfrey?"

Blinking slowly, the doubled vision of one James Potter gradually focused.

He was wearing a towel. Only a towel. Dear Merlin.

She gulped audibly. Luckily, he didn't notice.

"I need to get dressed. Let me get you to the sofa while I do, and then, I'll carry you there." He sounded worried and a little guilty.

She started to protest that _really_, she'd be fine, it was just a bump, when he lifted her into his arms. Pressed against his bare chest. Lily could do nothing but try to control her breathing. Quidditch practice had been good to him, and he was so _warm_, probably from the shower. She was just starting to let herself enjoy the sensation when she was gently lowered into the red velvet couch.

"Don't move," James ordered with such seriousness that she almost laughed out loud, but then her head panged, and she winced again.

A few minutes later, he returned dressed in jeans and a scarlet jumper (Thank Merlin, Lily inwardly sighed in relief), his dark hair still damp. When he started over to lift her again, she held up a hand.

"There's no need to bother Madam Pomfrey. I assure you, it's just a headache."

His sincere regret was obvious in his face. "She can give you something for the pain."

"I brought something with me from home. It's the little white bottle in the top drawer of my bureau, if you wouldn't mind. And a glass of water, please," she added.

A minute later, he returned with the bottle and the liquid and shook the bottle curiously. "No potion?"

"I'm afraid not. It's the good old Muggle remedy of swallowing a pill." She took the bottle and glass and noted with relief that it would make her sleep. This talking was killing her. When she was finished, she settled back into the couch and closed her eyes, expecting James to leave her in peace.

"I'm sorry," he suddenly whispered.

It hurt too much to open her eyes; so instead, she reached out until she found his hand and patted it rather absently. The medicine was fast-acting, but her tired brain did register the hand now holding hers before she drifted off.

She noticed two things when she woke a short while later. One, her headache was gone. Two, she was warm. Further investigation produced a Gryffindor Quidditch blanket tucked around her and no soul but herself. Before she could put a stop to such foolishness, her mind just had to go and gush about what a sweet gesture it was. Doing her best to ignore such thoughts, the Head Girl sat up and climbed off of the sofa just as her stomach growled. She had never made it to breakfast. Praying that lunch would not be over, she started toward the exit when, of course, he walked in.

Well, really, who else did she expect?

He grinned and gestured to the plate of sandwiches in his hand while a silvery cloak was over one arm. "I come bearing libations for the fair lady," he announced and tried to look pompous.

In spite of herself, Lily laughed. "This lady certainly is appreciative. I suppose I missed lunch, then?"

"I'm afraid so, dearest." He plopped down into the floor in front of the fireplace lowered the sandwiches to the floor, turned around for a moment and, "Voilà!" produced a bottle of pumpkin juice.

He looked so proud that she couldn't help but tease, "No goblets, I see."

"Damn. Knew I forgot something." He frowned.

She joined him in the floor, and suddenly paused, shocked. What had become of her? All of a sudden she had forgotten about what a prat that Potter was… and, dear Merlin, was she almost _flirting_ with him? It didn't bear contemplating! And yet… last night and this morning… she was clear on one thing: this was certainly a changed James Potter she was dealing with here.

He was quietly contemplating her sudden stillness when her eyes met his again. She felt obligated to say something about the previous night.

"James, I–"

"There's no need, Evans," he interrupted smoothly. A wry smile graced his features. "I think that my motives are clear enough. Now," he grinned at her, "you're not going to let these lovely sandwiches that I worked so hard to procure go to waste, are you?"

Deciding to save thinking for later, the green-eyed girl rolled her eyes. "Knicking from the kitchens is hardly work."

The teasing bickering continued while the sandwiches disappeared. The pumpkin juice they swigged straight from the bottle. Several times, Lily experienced the same sensation she had felt in the Great Hall the night before, but she quickly pushed the feeling away.

_James Potter, this is James Potter here, _she continuously lectured herself. _Oh, Merlin, why does he have to be so good looking?_

Please review and let me know what was good/bad/decent and what needs improvement. I have a plan for this story, but I'm completely open to suggestions.

Also, I know that it's completely necessary for James/Lily stories (and sometimes for RHr stories, too, but does anyone else wonder about Hogwarts allowing a teenage boy and girl to basically live together with little-to-no supervision? It does make it easier to spark the two, I'll admit. :-)


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